Tag Archives: spirituality

Retreat

Kathy and I are attending a retreat this weekend, so I am off-line for the weekend. I will leave you with Mindful by Mary Oliver. This poem reminds me to keep all my senses open and welcome that which is around me into my heart and mind.

Every day
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for –
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world –
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant –
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these –
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?

Kathy took this picture of the frost on the Ponderosa Pine which sits in front of our house.

A Time of Rest

Kathy took this picture last weekend. They finished a day cleaning the farmhouse and it is livable. The sun, after a dreary day, appeared and the sky was awash with golden rays. I feel this way in the classroom. I love what I do. I am whole and find voice. I am a learner, a teacher, and the two are inseparable, but I remind my self to be mindful and give thanks.

Fleetingly framed

Trees against golden skyline

Nature paints day’s end.

Glorious moment

Sky awash with golden light

I am fulfilled.

Tern, Tern, Tern

Kathy and I walk in the North Saskatchewan River valley 3 or 4 times a week. As we walked today and came across this scene, it reminded of the Pete Seeger melody Turn, Turn, Turn using words adapted from Book of Ecclesiastes.

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven.

The Sun Set Tree

Kathy took this at the farm the other day. She called the Sun Set Tree. The sun briefly reached out and shone some rays down on an otherwise dreary day.

Blurry silhouette

Unnoticed against leaden backdrop

Feel so lonely.

The sun smiles gently

Shares tentative rays.

I receive its warming glow

Gather strength.

Reveal that hidden among shadows

Stretch boldly.

Smile with Brother Sun

A sacred moment.

Focus

I keep blurry pictures. They remind me life is not always in sharp focus and there are times to step back, pause, and reflect.

The spirit wearies

A voice from within speaks

Seeks reflective time.

Quietly turn inward

Listen to an inner voice

Seek counsel and wisdom.

Pay homage and celebrate

While pain reveals character

New paths carved into wilderness.

Cherish each moment’s gift

Arrival and departure

Grateful for life.

On the Edge

Kathy and I are back on the road this morning. It will be Monday before I post again. I disconnect to reconnect. I feel on the edge at this time of the week and summer. I go back to work next Wednesday and, for the first time in my career, I am not looking forward to going back. I am on the edge and find faith in something other than me.

Each step

Brings me to the edge.

Uncertain balance

On the edge.

Instability dances with stability

Harsh with the gentle.

Quiet the self

Hear the soul’s gentle words.

A still space reveals wisdom

A spirit of Faith.

Look forward;

Look down.

Go forward

Accept hands proffered in similar Faith.

Metamorphosis

I struggled today. Starbucks’ Internet was intermittent and my day was cleaved in half with an appointment. I reflected on what my blogging and there has been a substantial change in the tone and voice of the blogger. When I began, I was doing it for all the wrong reasons and was driven from ego. Transformation is about my self and not about what goes on outside me.

I influence the world and as Gandhi wisely said, “Be the change you want to see in the world” is important.

Change

Occupies an idle mind.

Denies, oppresses

Another self.

Transform

Inner terrain.

Who is this self?

What life does this self live?

Mature

Through life.

Define

the self who lives this life.

Emerge

from chrysalis each day.

Present

A thoughtful gift

Transform my self.

Reveal through selfless acts

Flourish beyond rhetoric

Beyond fad.

Journey with others

Appreciate

Valorize.

Pensive Pirate

Several months ago, Francesca at Words/Love provided advice for aspiring writers. She advised other writers to keep pen and paper close at hand. More and more, I do this. This morning, about 6:00, I woke up with poetry on my mind. I scrambled, grabbed writing gear, and jotted ideas down. I hope I can flesh the ideas out over the next few days.

It is during unexpected times or quiet moments I find creativity. Kathy surreptitiously took this picture at Kootenai Lake in Glacier National Park. I was feverishly scribbling ideas that had popped up during the hike. It was easy in those surroundings. I hope to continue now that we are home.

Pensive pirate pauses

Revitalize one’s spirit

Serenity sought.

I will see you on Monday; oki until then.

Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump

We went to Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump Interpretive Centre a UNESCO World Heritage Site about 50 km from Pincher Creek and with Waterton’s majestic skyline.

This area is the traditional home of the Niitsítapi (Blackfoot Confederacy) which means ‘original people.’ The Piikáni (North Piegan), a member of the confederacy, traveled to Waterton’s Blakiston Valley and gathered at Akaitapi (good campsite). The area was also used by the Ktunaxa (Kootenay or Kootenai) who came from the west and provided food, water, and shelter.

The Niitsítapi gathered at Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump and used innovative strategies to hunt the plains bison. Legend has it the name comes from an unfortunate incident when a young man wanted a closer view of the action. He waited at the base of the cliff, but the hunt was extremely successful and, when he was found, he had sustained a broken skull and died.

Archaeologists discovered evidence that this site was on a migratory path for indigenous people at least 5500 years ago. A buffalo jump or ‘pishkun’ in Niitsítapi used drive lanes marked by rock cairns. The buffalo ran in the drive lanes and, as they approached the cliff, the last part of the drive lane sloped up and the jump was not noticeable. The process required perfect human timing and was extremely dangerous.

A small herd of bison live in a paddock at Waterton, but at one time these animals covered the Great Plains of North America. The bison is often called a ‘walking supermarket’ as almost all its body parts were usable and often harvested.

Super store on legs

Symbolic prairie icon

A sideshow item.

Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump is at the confluence of three geological formations. The Rocky Mountains and the Great Plains are well-known. The picture below is the rise into the Porcupine Hills. In the foreground is a hill where young Niitsítapi men transitioned to manhood through a vision quest. The hill, due to its spiritual significance to the Niitsítapi people, does not have public access.

Young person’s journey

Discover one’s inner self

Quest into adulthood.

We watched traditional dancing and heard traditional drumming and singing at the interpretive centre . The drum is symbolic of Mother Earth’s heartbeat  in Niitsítapi tradition.

Drum reverberates

Symbol of Mother Earth’s heart

We are one with Her.

Sabbath’s Circle

Have a great 23rd of July, 2012.

A virtuous circle

Begins at the end

Ends at the beginning.

A source of refuge

Moments of discovery within

No urgency

Besides just breathing.

Just be

With all nature’s cycles

Brings wholeness

Sabbath liberates.

I find life events are increasingly filled with synchronicity. When I posted the poem Auditory Illusion, I had listened to a thunderstorm chase itself in and out of the Spokane area. It thundered overhead, moved off, and returned several times circling in and out of the area for about an hour. After the post, I reflected on life’s circularity as it is and scribbled some thoughts down before going to bed last night.

I heard the rain differently than it was. It sounded like the storm was over, yet, when I got up, it was raining hard. The eaves of the building had tempered the sound. Today, in Wayne Muller’s Sabbath, he wrote about the etymological roots of the words absurd and obedient. Absurd is from the Latin surdus which means deaf and obedient from the Latin to listen. Yesterday, listening or mislistening to the storm and its intensity reminded me of the frequency I misunderstand parts of life and its relationships. Wayne Muller was friend of Henri Nouwen and said he was “a fiercely astute observer of our worried, overfilled lives [and that] … the noise of our lives made us deaf, unable to hear when we are called, or from which direction” (p. 84). I am commited to daily moments of silence and a weekly Sabbath to help me listen when called.

Wayne Muller concludes each short chapter with a brief reflection for Sabbath. The chapter Let it Be is also the title of my favourite Beatles’ songs. Today, the reflection was from Brother David Steindl-Rast an Austrian monk.

“Let the silence drop like a pebble right into the middle of the day and send its ripples out over its surface in ever-widening circles” (p. 86).

Muller, W. (1999). Sabbath: Restoring the sacred rhythm of rest. New York: Bantam Books.